


Lady and the Vamp: A Lotura Vampire Romance AU

by VivikaJ



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: Bloodplay, Blowjobs, Cunnilingus, Doggy Style, F/F, F/M, First Time, In this house we only torture racists and rapists, Light Dom/sub, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Morally Gray Monster Boyfriend, The torture is not related to sex, Torture, Vaginal Fingering, Vampires, Woman on Top, man on top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:28:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19294813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivikaJ/pseuds/VivikaJ
Summary: In which I write the trashy, smut filled vampire romance novel I always wanted to, borrowing elements from Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris. This story combines aspects of DotU and VLD, and is written as an AU within the storyworld.It's 1925 and Allura Laveau is a Charlston belle who catches the eye of New Orleans playboy vampire Prince Lotor. It's all fun and games in the world of sin, gin, and Jazz until Allura discovers the prince has a dark past with ties to her own. Just when she thinks she’s got a handle on her newfound magic powers, her bloodthirsty, mysterious boyfriend, and her family’s racial prejudice, an ancient evil rears its head. With zombies.There will be blood. And sex. Lots of it. Sometimes at the same time.This story deals with racial issues, which will be addressed throughout the work. Explicit violence and torture.





	1. The Invitation

New Orleans 1925

 

It had begun, as this sort of affair often does, with a glance stolen from across a room.

"Who is she?" the lavender skinned vampire had asked.

"Why Prince Lotor, I’m surprised. It's been several millennia since you fell head over heels for a mortal."

Lotor scowled at Luca. "I am  _ not _ head over heels. I want to see if she'd care to join us for some fun. She's breathtaking."

The prince watched as the caramel skinned girl adjusted her long pink and white evening gown -- a little more Victorian in design than he was used to seeing in New Orleans -- and settle into her theatre box with a giggling blonde girl and what appeared to be their two very fussy chaperones, an older, mustachioed man and a frumpy bulldog of a woman.

Luca smiled and leaned into him, twirling his long, white hair around a pale finger. “You’ll be pleased to know her reputation is nearly as scandalous as yours.”

Lotor gave her an affectionate side eye and kissed her temple before directing his focus back to the mysterious girl. “Somehow I doubt that but do tell.”

“The girl, my prince, is Allura Laveau. I heard she’s the bastard child of some wealthy politician’s daughter.”

“An American princess,” he mused. “Tell me, how does the clearly mixed race child of a politician’s daughter travel so openly and in such luxury?”

The woman on his other arm piped up, “I have it on good authority that because of the nature of her conception, the mother was sent to “visit relatives out West” until the birth. She was supposed to be given up for adoption, but when the baby was born the mother fell in love and wouldn’t part with her. So. The story the family tells is that when Melenor Laveau went out West, she found this darling abandoned baby and knew it was divine intervention that she take the child in. Thus Allura Laveau, Charleston’s ‘orphan’ princess, was brought up educated in the home of the wealthiest family in South Carolina. How avant garde! Yet how chivalrous! Cue fanfare.”

“Merciful Nightmother, Coral.” He rolled his eyes. “Does human hypocrisy know no bounds?”

“Yes, well. You know how they are.” Luca gave the audience a contemptible stare.

“I know how some very specific groups of them are,” he returned. “And that I don’t so much mind using  _ those _ as a five course meal.”

“Something tells me this one will end up a different kind of meal. So what’s your next move?” asked Coral.

“Why, my dear ladies, to extend a cordial invitation. And Luca, you of course, being the senior most lady of the house must be the one to extend it.”

“Naturally,” she smiled, revealing her pointed incisors.

The prince stroked Luca’s red hair as he met Miss Allura Laveau’s brilliant blue eyes from across the theatre. “And Luca. We don’t want to scare Miss Princess off. Do make sure your fangs stay retracted this time.”

 

“Romelle, don’t eat all the chocolate before the show even starts!” Allura giggled at her cousin.

“We are here on  _ holiday _ , Allura. If I want to eat all the chocolate in the theatre before the show starts then I shall.”

“Yes and then you shall ruin your figure and any chance at catching that rich New Orleans beau you keep yammering about.”

“What beau?” Nanny demanded. “Allura Leveau and Romelle Stockton, I promised your mothers I would bring you two back to Charlston as virtuous as you left. There shall be no New Orleans beaus for either of you, and if you cannot behave yourselves we will limit our theatre time. I cannot believe you convinced me to allow this past-bedtime event in the first place.”

“Oh Nanny, it’s no one real. Romelle likes to pretend we’re each going to run off with some exotic Prince Charming who can show us the ways of the world.” Allura winked at Romelle.

Coran nearly spit his Coca-Cola. “Young lady, if you keep talking like that, and in public no less, I’m going to show you the way out of the theatre.”

Allura and Romelle giggled to each other.

“Besides,” Coran went on. “There are plenty of wealthy, educated beaus from respectable families in South Carolina. In fact, Miss Allura, your grandfather was just telling me of some fine young aristocrat whose parents had agreed to meet. You may well be married by the end of summer, but it certainly won’t be to anyone from here.”

“I thought fine young aristocrats’ sons from South Carolina didn’t want to marry mixed blood girls.”

“Shhhush!” Nanny scolded her. “You may be adopted but you are of mixed Northern European and Spanish descent. That’s where you get your black hair -- the Spanish side.”

“Oh Nanny, I very plainly am not Spanish.”

“Nanny honestly,” said Romelle through a mouth full of chocolate. “Cousin Allura looks like most of the people in the Jazz clubs here. You really think everyone can’t tell?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to acknowledge it in public! We’re trying to set you up with a decent life and that means marriage to an eligible young man from a fine, upstanding family--”

Romelle and Allura exchanged a look.

Allura yawned. “Nanny, I’d rather die an old maid than get married to someone just because he’s fooled into thinking I’m someone I’m not.”

Coran interrupted, “Well that may sound like a brave idea when you’re twenty one and fresh into the world but when you’re thirty and your family’s dying of old age, and you’re left penniless because you were too full of pride to take the advice of those who want what’s best for you, you’ll have second thoughts about the luxurious life of perpetual purity.”

Soon the oil lamps were turned down across most of the theatre and the stage’s lamps lit brighter. A pair of incandescent eyes met Allura’s from across the theatre. They belonged to a well dressed man with hair so blond Allura swore it was white. On each of his sides was a red headed woman. They looked a scandalous trio.

“Romelle,” Allura whispered to her cousin as the show began. “Who is that gentleman in the box across from us? The one who keeps looking our direction?”

Romelle took her cousin’s hand into hers and leaned in, gossip at the ready. “Gentleman indeed! Why Allura dear, you’re not going to believe this but that so-called gentleman is a vampire.”

"Hogswash!"

"Hand to God! At least, that's what I've heard. And I do have it on good authority."

"Romelle, you have it on the authority of the bell boy you were shamelessly flirting with at the hotel. I hardly think he is to be taken seriously."

"But it's true, Uncle Coran! The bellboy said so. His name is Lotor and he's a vampire prince. He sucks the life out of pretty girls."

Nanny and Coran both made put off noises and Nanny responded, "Romelle, honey, the young man was being metaphorical. It means he has indecent relations with many young women, probably the ones who don't listen to their elders."

"Oh yeah? Why's he purple then?" Romelle asked in a tone that made it clear she felt the matter was settled.

"Probably syphilis," stated Nanny.

Allura laughed. "Nanny, I'm no doctor, but I've never read of syphilis turning a man purple."

"Allura, you need to keep your nose out of men's books. Stick to something wholesome like Louisa May Alcott. And who knows? Maybe he has a rare skin condition and the both of you should stop staring at him and watch the play."

Romelle whispered to Allura, "Tell that to the vampire."

But much as Allura tried to focus on the show, she couldn't help but glance back every so often to catch the supposed prince's pointed gaze.

 

“Oh Nanny! How you fuss. It’s only a party and I shan’t drink to excess!” Allura teased.

“You shan’t drink anything, Miss Allura. Your mother would kill both Uncle Coran and myself if she found out you’d touched a drop. It’s  _ illegal _ . Lan’s sake, child, wasn’t the play enough excitement for one night?”

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Nanny. I’m a grown woman. I want to experience the world! And here we are, in the heart of Jazz itself.” Allura looked out the window dreamily.

“You can experience the world like a Southern lady: With escorts and appropriate length dresses--” Nanny pulled the flapper gown Allura was holding out of her hands and put it on the bed. “And sober.”

A rap at the door interrupted the women’s tiff.

“I wonder who that could be,” said Allura, gathering her flapper dress from the bed and holding it against herself in the mirror.

“Oh! I do hope it’s that bellboy again!” squealed Romelle.

“It had better not be that ratty looking bellboy. Probably just some no account trash, knocking on the door past decent hours,” glowered Nanny.

“Oh Nanny…” sighed Romelle.

Nanny opened the hotel door and practically jumped out of here skin. A tall, red-headed woman whose ivory skin practically glittered under the gaslamp towered over her in a stately dress.

“Good evening, Madam. My name is Lady Luca Delacroix, and I am here to extend a most warm New Orleans welcome to Miss Allura Laveau. Is the young lady available?”

“Miss Allura is resting. It is past bedtime for Southern ladies.”

Luca gave a small curtsy and continued, “My apologies, Madam. When may I--”

“I’m right here!” said Allura, squeezing between Nanny and the door.

“Allura!” squawked Nanny. “Mind your nightdress! You’re indecent!”

As Nanny scrambled for a robe to throw over Allura, Romelle peeked her head around the corner.

“As if I have never seen a woman’s nightclothes before.” Luca rolled her eyes and smiled. 

Allura laughed genially, not quite picking up the meaning.

“Now, as I was saying, as the madam of my household I’ve come to extend a very warm New Orleans welcome. Please accept and open this gift on behalf of my household when you have a moment alone.” Luca extended a small, purple sealed envelope with the letter L stamped over it.

Allura took the envelope and gave the lady a small curtsy. “Thank you ever so for your kindness, Missus Delacroix.”

Luca chuckled and caught a glimpse of Romelle trying to steal a glance at the envelope. “It’s Miz. And remember, that welcome is for your eyes only.”

When the woman departed, Romelle popped fully out from behind the door jam. “So. Open it open it open it!”

Allura clasped the envelope to her chest and closed their bedroom door, giving Romelle a pointed look. “You heard her. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Well, we know who it’s really from.” Romelle rolled her eyes. “That was one of those women with the vampire Lotor.”

“Oh they were sitting far away in the dark. How can you be sure?”

Romelle shrugged. “She’s red headed. He seemed to like the company of redheads. The envelope has a seal the same color as Prince Syphilis. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck…”

“Lord have mercy.” Allura rolled her eyes and tucked the envelope safely into her nightdress, away from her cousin’s prying eyes.

When Allura heard Nanny and Romelle’s snores from their room, she carefully left her bed and made for her balcony overlooking the French Quarter. Even at night the city was a bustle of sound and color, with sweet music filling the air. The smell of spice and perfume and the damp night air enveloped her senses. She withdrew the purple stamped envelope from her bosom and carefully opened it, withdrawing a sheet of parchment containing a careful scrawl. Her heart skipped a beat as she read.

 

_ My Dear Miss Allura Laveau, _

 

_ I wish to extend you the very warmest of welcomes to our beloved city of New Orleans and cordially invite you to a late dinner, as is our custom, in my home at 9:30pm tomorrow. _

 

_ Should you wish to accept this invitation, please make yourself available at the back entrance of your hotel, and the madame of our household, whom you met this evening, will be ready to escort you as your chaperone.  _

 

_ With all due courtesy and warm affections, _

_ Prince Lotor _


	2. Careless Love Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura agrees to meet the prince and stumbles into a lot more than she bargained for.

2: Careless Love Blues

 

As promised in Prince Lotor’s letter, Ms. Delacroix was waiting beside a black motor carriage at the back entrance of the hotel at 9:30pm sharp. Allura hurried down the sidewalk, cream white flapper dress fluttering and heels clacking. Luca opened the passenger door.

“Good evening, Ms. Delacroix,” said Allura politely.

“Good evening, ma cher. I can’t tell you how anticipated your company has been this evening.” She got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

“Don’t you have a driver?” Allura asked.

Luca raised a ginger brow. “We did. But I prefer to drive myself.”

“I don’t mean to be untoward. It’s just that back home it’s considered improper for ladies to drive,” Allura told her.

“I’m sure some here consider it improper as well, but in our household we’re not necessarily beholden to… every social more. Have you ever driven a motorcar?”

“Oh no, ma’am. My guardians would have a coronary. Not just because I’m a girl. They don’t like the idea of me being in any danger at all,” Allura explained.

Luca smirked. “The prince is going to have a lot of fun with you.”

Allura smiled with courteous innocence. “I hope to have a great deal of fun with him.”

It wasn’t long before Luca had pulled the car downhill, into an underground garage of a stately gothic brick house. Electric lights shone in a warm glow on a violet painted door. Luca pulled the garage door down and locked it while Allura gathered her purse and straightened her soft pink lipstick.

“Are you nervous?” Luca asked her as they stood together at the door following Luca’s knock.

“A little,” Allura said.

“Don’t be. He may be a prince but Lotor is one of the most amiable men in New Orleans. He doesn’t extend an invitation to everyone though, so you’ve really caught his attention.”

Allura smiled, pleased with herself. Maybe Romelle’s idea of meeting a beau wasn’t so half baked after all.

The door opened, and there the prince stood, towering over her. He looked lithe and muscular beneath his dark blue suit. His platinum hair shimmered under the electric lights, and his skin was a pale gray-violet that seemed to glow. He was, quite possibly, the most handsome being she had ever seen.

He took her hand in his, meeting her eyes, and planted a small, chaste kiss on the top. “My dear Miss Allura, it is a pleasure and an honor to have you in our lovely city. Won’t you please come inside?”

“Thank you, I’d be delighted,” Allura said, taking his arm. She felt the air leave her body as he guided her to the sitting room, where Coral was lounging with a martini glass and a black cat on her hip. 

After Allura and Luca had taken seats, Lotor returned from hanging their coats and took his as well.

“I must ask, my dear, to what do we owe your enchanting presence in our boisterous little city?”

“Well, this is my first holiday, and I wanted to come somewhere with music and magic. I heard you’ve got both.” 

“We certainly do, and on both accounts. Do you like Jazz?” he asked.

“Do I!” Allura smiled from ear to ear.

The prince put a hand on Luca’s and gave her a warm smile. “Luca here has gathered us quite the collection of the latest phonographs. Who do you like?”

Allura leaned in close as though telling him a great secret, and the prince in turn gave her his rapt attention. “You musn’t tell my Nanny, but I like Bessie Smith quite a lot.”

Luca moved from the loveseat and shuffled through her records.

“That old bulldog I’ve managed to spirit you away from? I wouldn’t dream of telling her anything that passes between us. And we’re big fans of the Empress here as well,” Lotor stood and offered Allura his hand as the Careless Love Blues rang out. 

 

_ Love, oh love, oh careless love _

_ You fly through my head like wine _

_ You’re wrecked the life of many a poor girl _

_ And nearly spoiled this life of mine _

 

“Coral darling, would you mind topping us all off with a glass of what you’re having? Do you drink much, Miss Allura?” He fit a hand on her waist and guided his other into hers.

“To tell you another secret, I’ve never had a drop.”

 

_ Love, oh love, oh careless love _

_ In your clutches of desire _

_ You've made me break a many true vow _

_ Then you set my very soul on fire _

 

“Just a glass of wine for Miss Allura, Coral,” he called. “Now. You must tell me how you convinced that fussy Nanny of yours to bring you here.”

“It was actually my mother who agreed to let me come under supervision, but only because the rate of, well, crime toward women and children is so low. Actually, she said the city had an unusually low amount of child predators for a place with such a large amount of brothels.”

Luca and Lotor exchanged a glance from across the room. She gave her fangs a small lick then stifled a chuckle when Lotor shook his head no. 

“Well my dear Miss Allura, I’m certain there’s a reasonable explanation for that. I’m sure you’ll find in this city, we have a dedicated group of citizens that enacts swift justice on those who prey on the weak and vulnerable.”

“It’s so refreshing to see such gentility in such a boisterous place," she said. 

“I couldn’t agree more. You know, there are few people in the world I truly hate, except the ones who mistreat those weaker than them. As far as I’m concerned that sort of scum can go rot like the worms they are.”

 

_ Love, oh love, oh careless love _

_ Trusted you now, it's too late _

_ You've made me throw my old friend down _

_ That's why I sing this song of hate _

 

Coral brought in drinks along with a tray of roast duck, cheeses, bread, and a plethora of fruit. 

“I beg your pardon if you’re used to eating at a big family table, my dear. Around here we prefer to peck like birds while we mingle,” he apologized.

“Why, I don’t mind at all! I think I rather prefer it this way. It leaves more time for dancing.”

He guided her to the tray, his hand in the small of her back, and used a small fork to skewer a bite of duck. “You must try this, my dear, and tell me what you think.”

She opened her mouth and let him feed her a bite. The juices rolled down her tongue, awakening her senses and pulling her fully into the moment. She closed her eyes and savored the bite. “It’s delicious. You must try it as well.”

The prince leaned in and whispered into her ear while he moved both hands down her waist and around her back. “Thank you my dear, but there’s something else I’d rather save my appetite for.”

 

_ Love, oh love, oh careless love _

_ Night and day, I weep and moan _

_ You brought the wrong man into this life of mine _

_ For my sins, till judgment I'll atone _

 

The group returned to the couches, this time with Allura sitting closer to Lotor, and sipped their martinis and wine. After nearly a full glass, Allura found herself feeling bold.

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I can’t help but notice what a lovely complexion you have.”

“I should say the same of yours, my dear.” He smiled at her.

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. “Thank you. Spanish heritage, you know.”

“Miss Allura, please excuse my forward nature, but you are very plainly not Spanish.”

Her cheeks reddened. "How can you tell?"

"Ma cher, you are as lovely as our native creole girls. Please correct me if I’m wrong, but I had assumed you were."

"Oh."

“I’ll make you a deal, sweet girl. You be honest about who you are and I'll be honest about who I am."

"All right, that’s fair enough."

Lotor gave her a winning smile. "So. Who are you, Miss Allura Laveau?"

"I'm not rightly sure. I’m adopted so I don’t know who my real parents are. My mother found me abandoned out West during one of her visits with family and brought me home. I've always wanted to know who I come from."

"I can understand that. The blood one shares can be very affecting."

"Yes. All right, my turn. Why are you that shade of lavender? My Nanny says lavender skin is caused by social diseases, but I think she's making it up."

Lotor laughed aloud at that. "Social diseases? Well really. No, my dear, I'm this color because of my race as well."

“What do you mean?”

He tucked his hair back, revealing pointed ears like the elves of her childhood storybooks. "I'm from an ancient race called Alteans. Luca and Coral are as well, but as you can see they are a, ah, more socially acceptable skin color. But in our culture, shades of blue and violet are associated with royal lineage."

"Why, that's fascinating!"

“I suppose so,” he smiled at her. “But please, keep that information to yourself. We Alteans like to keep to ourselves so I usually tell people who are forward enough to ask that I have a rare skin condition.”

“I understand. My family asks that I keep who I really am quiet as well, so I’m used to keeping secrets.”

“You know, Miss Allura. My people have this rather uncanny ability to taste where a person is from using the tiniest drop of blood. Would you care for me to try?”

“I…” A look of concern crossed her features.

“It’s all right if not. I know that sounds very forward for our first evening together.”

“No, I am curious. Sure. Just a drop, right?”

“The smallest of drops,” he assured her.

She nodded her approval, and the prince moved for a hatpin, taking her hand tenderly in his as he pierced just the tip of her index finger. She winced briefly and he brought the finger to his mouth, looking into her eyes as he gently and with utmost control sucked only a drop from her. He closed his eyes and took a moment to roll the taste over his tongue.

“African -- mainly of the west coast. Northern European -- French and English. No Spanish.” He winked at her. Then his eyes became dreamy and far away as he trailed off. “But a hint of something… familiar...” 

“What is it?” she asked excitedly.

He blinked several times, staring up at her. “I’m--unclear.”

Coral and Luca joined the pair on the loveseat, squeezing in close. Allura’s head was swimming and she began to yawn.

“Perhaps she’d like to have some Altean in her.” Luca laughed.

Lotor met her with a mischievous gleam.

Coral finished off her drink and set her legs on top of Luca’s lap. “Yes! I think we should stop talking about boring things like lineage and focus on what really matters: Playtime.” 

“I do love games,” yawned Allura.

Luca poked a finger into Lotor’s chest. “See there, you’ve gone and bored her to sleep.”

Lotor held up his hands. “I place at least ninety percent of the blame on Coral’s blackberry wine. It’s hard to know when to stop when it tastes so good. Why don’t you girls run along and get started and I’ll help Miss Allura to the divan. She needs water and to lie down for a bit.” 

He hefted her into his arms and carried her like a princess to the divan in the master bedroom. 

“But I wanted to play,” Allura pouted as he covered her with a blanket.

He stroked her face and smiled. “And you shall be most welcome to join us when you’re sober, my dear. Here now, the wine has made you tired. Drink some water and you’ll wake up soon enough.”

The last thing she knew was Prince Charming kissing her brow.

 

When Allura next opened her eyes, she was in a dark room with candles its only light. The sounds of sighs and giggles and little moans broke the night’s calm silence. She yawned and stretched. “Ms. Luca?”

“Someone’s awake,” she heard the prince say in a lower voice than he had been using earlier that evening, to which the two women began to giggle. “Have you sobered up yet, my dear?”

“Yes, I. I think so,” she said, getting up from the divan and straightening her dress.

“We’re across the suite, Allura. Come join us.”

She made her way through the darkness toward the sound of their voices. When she reached them, she stood in the middle of the bedroom, her mouth ajar.

The very large, very nude prince was on his side in the middle of the bed. In front of him was Ms. Coral, who was also missing her clothing. He was kissing her womanhood as though it were her mouth while her head bobbed in his lap. Every so often, he’d break from his own effort to murmur something soft to Coral, who would moan in response. Behind him, Ms. Luca knelt and adjusted the straps of some kind of device around her hips and began to kiss and massage the prince’s shoulders. He stopped kissing Ms. Coral’s womanhood and looked over his shoulder slyly.

“Luca my pet, if you start that I’m going to be finished before Miss Allura gets here. Are you hoping to have her all to yourself?”

“No one is having any of me,” Allura stated coldly.

“Why Allura darling, you’re here!”

“I’m leaving,” she huffed. “I-- for God’s sake, put your clothes on! Haven’t you any decency?!”

Lotor pulled the covers over himself and nudged his companions to do the same. “Miss Allura, whatever is the matter?”

Allura fumed, “Don’t you ‘Miss Allura’ me! I don’t know what sort of woman you take me for but I assure you I am not some-- some common whore!”

The prince gave her an apologetic look. “Miss Allura, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding here. I don’t pay women for sex--”

“Oh, so you just take me for a cheap hussy then?”

A mirthful smile lit his face and he shook his head. “Allura… please listen. The only thing I took you for was a spirited young woman who was in New Orleans to have a fun time and--”

“You’re exactly as the bellboy said,” Allura accused him. “And you’re mistaken. I wish to go home.”

“Bellboy? Oh nevermind,” he held up a hand. “I’ll get dressed and take you.”

 

It was the most awkward ride she had ever been on. Neither party said a word, although the prince did not seem upset, merely calmly detached and thoughtful, which somehow infuriated her further. He focused on the road. When they arrived at the hotel, he got out first and opened her door.

She gave a hurried goodnight and tried to escape but he gently caught her wrist.

“Miss Allura?”

“Yes, what?”

“I want to apologize for our misunderstanding this evening and assure you I find you wholly charming outside a bedroom setting."

"That's nice."

He looked like he wanted to say something further, but thought better of it. "Good night, Allura."

"Good night."

She took off her heels and hurried back to her room. Not that she'd dare tell them, but perhaps Nanny and Coran had been right. 

 

The next few nights Allura slept fitfully. The first night she dreamed fleeting images of Luca and Coral kissing and touching each other’s breasts and of Luca behind her, kissing her shoulders. The next she dreamed of herself kissing the prince while he ran his hands through her hair and murmured to her how good she felt. Worst of all was the third night. The prince was naked and so was she, though she wasn't sure how she had gotten that way. He asked if she wanted to play a game, and when she giggled and said yes, he laughed lecherously and told her "follow me!" before grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the bedroom. The next thing she knew she was on her back, her legs hefted over his shoulders as he slid deep inside her and groaned into her ear. “Romelle says you’re a vampire,” she told him playfully. “Maybe you should listen to your cousin." He opened his mouth wide, revealing large, razor sharp fangs, and bit down into her neck. She awoke in a cold sweat, her body on fire. She knew she shouldn’t do what she did next. But she let her hand wander beneath her bloomers and brought herself to completion with the prince’s name on her lips.


	3. On the Market

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura and Lotor face off against different kinds of adversaries and find common ground.

Lotor poured himself a stiff drink and settled into his chaise, stroking his black cat Kova behind the ears. The girls were tucked in for the day. The dishes were done and the floor swept. He had taken the trash out before 5am. And now he was left to mull over the present situation. Finally, deciding the taste of Allura's blood meant exactly what it did, he picked up the telephone.

“Hello, operator. Merla Vang of New Orleans please. Thank you.”

He pulled a cigarette from a pack and fit it into a long, thin holder, lighting up and taking a slow drag while he rubbed his temples.

“Merla speaking.”

“My dear Queen Merla.”

“Prince Lotor, it is past decent calling hours and I have  _ twins _ in the pool. This had better be urgent.”

Lotor smirked to himself. There was a reason he and Merla got on, even if they hadn’t been maritally compatible. “Tell the twins to come over to my place if the interruption has killed your mood. You know I would only call if it were something you considered ‘need to know’.”

“Spit it out then.”

“I’m fairly certain the Life Giver is in New Orleans.” Lotor was certain he could feel the tension that accompanied the pregnant pause through the telephone line.

“ _ The _ Life Giver?”

“I have reason to believe so, yes.”

"Lotor," he could practically feel the Vampire Queen’s sigh. “The Life Giver is a one time event. For all we know, we already missed her thousands of years ago.”

“No, it’s… it’s difficult to explain but I’m sure it’s her. I met a girl.”

“I desperately hope you’re not jumping at dead ends based on the taste of some girl’s pussy.”

“The taste of her blood, actually. And she fits several criteria of the prophecy. I’ll have to dig into some further research but... Merla, it’s her, I’m sure of it.”

Another pregnant pause.

“Lotor, if you’re right about this, you need to get and keep her close.”

"I think I may have screwed the pooch on that one." He rolled his eyes at himself.

“Whatever you did, you might want to unfuck yourself. The generals have been reporting strange activity involving the spirit realm recently. Which means a necromancer is in town. Which means unless this mysterious Miss Life Giver is properly trained, she’s in danger. And along with her the future of our people.”

“Son of a bitch,” he mumbled through a smoky exhale and sighed. “All right, I’ll talk to Acxa first thing tomorrow night, then hit the field myself and see what I can find out.”

He set the mouthpiece into the receiver and put his cigarette out. He finished his martini and washed the glass, placing it carefully next to the others on the drying rack. When he finished, he went to the mantle and carefully retrieved an ancient looking urn.

"It won't be long now, darling. Ten thousand years have led to what's coming."

He placed a small kiss atop the urn and gazed at it admiringly. "I  _ will _ avenge you."

 

Breakfast was a hearty affair at the hotel. Coran and Nanny munched on poached eggs and toast. Romelle scarfed down potatoes, ham, fruit, biscuits and gravy. Allura pushed a few bites of oatmeal around her bowl. And her grandfather’s right hand man and political advisor, Mr. Sneed, had joined the family for a helping of buttered grits.

“So I said to Alfor, I said ‘You’ve got to remind these people just which family in town curries the Governor’s favor. If Alfor Daveau makes a promise, then by God that’s what happens’.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has you to remind him,” Coran said. “It’s not every man who’s had the allegiance of an advisor his entire three decade career. Not to mention the care you show to his granddaughters and their futures as well.”

“That reminds me,” said Mr. Sneed, twirling his gray mustache and adjusting his lapels. “On the subject of Miss Allura’s beau, he is quite charmed by what he’s seen of our ‘Spanish’ princess and is ready to begin courtship as soon as she returns to Charlston.”

“Oh goody,” Allura said flatly.

“OOooo! What’s his name?” asked Romelle, reaching for the mint chocolates in the middle of the table.

“Lance McLain. Graduated from university a year back. Now he’s a sharpshooter at the Naval Academy up in Annapolis. His father and I go way back. Good family. Traditional values. A fine choice in husbands.”

“He sounds perfect, doesn’t he, Allura?” said Nanny.

“And who says I want to get married, especially to some young buck I don’t even know?” asked Allura.

“Miss Allura, I have nothing but respect for your  _ adopted _ grandfather so let me make this plain to you. With your… life circumstances, you have been lucky to have been taken in by such an upstanding family and will be lucky to catch any husband of any worth.”

“Again, Mr. Sneed, who says I want a husband? I read. I write. Perhaps I’ll get a secretarial job and support myself while I attend school.”

“Good heavens!” gasped Nanny.

“Well really, a secretary!” said Coran. “Of all the--”

“Yes, and end up on the street a common whore struggling to pay the rent,” said Sneed.

“Mister Sneed!” gasped Nanny.

“I apologize for my coarse language, but at this point I daresay she and Romelle need to hear it. Allura, you may not like your lot in life, but it is just that. You have been handed well more than is rightfully yours, yet you seek to throw it away with both hands.”

“But Mr. Sneed,” interrupted Romelle. “You just said yourself Allura wouldn’t normally have the opportunities she does. Isn’t that a problem in and of itself? Actually, isn’t it a problem for both of us we have to rely on catching a husband for support?”

“Tell me this, young lady. Are you getting bon bons and parasols?”

“Yes we are,” said Romelle, shoving a chocolate from the center bowl into her face.

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t complain about the system in place.”

“Do you hear that, Allura?” asked Nanny. “Perhaps you should thank Mr. Sneed for being so invested in arranging this meeting with the young man.”

Tears welled in Allura’s eyes. Suddenly, she rose from the breakfast table. “I beg your pardon. I think I’ve rather lost my appetite.”

“Allura, you come back!” called Nanny. “You’re making a scene.”

“No no, let her go,” said Sneed. “I was, perhaps, rather harsh on her. And she does have a woman’s emotional sensibilities. Once she gets used to the idea, she’ll come ‘round.”

 

It was well into the evening, after Mr. Sneed had taken his leave, before Romelle was able to convince her to join Nanny and Coran out on Market Square, but finally Allura agreed the lively night atmosphere would do her good. They wandered about, enjoying the sweet Jazz trombones, the smells and tastes of shrimp and cajun rice, the colorful decor. Romelle tried to get Nanny to let them get their fortunes told, but Nanny threatened to take them all back to the hotel. She was able to weasel fresh pies and cotton candies out of the old biddy, and Allura gingerly picked at hers as they walked the square.

"And you won't believe what else he told me, cousin. You think a sharpshooter would be a bad catch? He said the vampire was really from a faraway country but he travels all over the world and he has a different harem for every vacation palace…"

Allura clenched her fists.

"I think we've heard enough wild stories from the bellboy this evening, Romelle," said Coran. "And I don't know that I care for this new vampire obsession of yours either. This Lotor fellow seems a dangerous sort and a cad."

"Oh don't worry, Uncle Coran. He's not my type. But Allura…"

"You hush your mouth, Romelle. There's not enough penicillin in Louisiana," snapped Allura.

"My goodness, cousin, you've become testy. What's got into your drawers?"

"Certainly not a fiend like that," she said. 

"Well don't look now but… speak of the devil.” Romelle grinned like a cheshire cat.

Allura looked up and nearly dropped her cotton candy. Like a bad penny and the very last thing she needed to top off her day, the pampered prince had managed to turn up.

"Oh  _ hell _ !"

"Allura Marie Laveau! You watch your language, young lady!" snapped Nanny.

Lotor looked to be on his own and was looking over some masks and voodoo charms at a nearby stall, his white hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, covering his pointed ears. Before she could look away, he glanced up and caught her eye, smiling and nodding politely.

Allura nodded back and quickly turned away.

Romelle frowned as she watched the awkward exchange, then blurted, "Nanny and Coran, I need Allura to help me pick presents and you musn't see because they're surprises!"

Coran raised a brow. "Romelle, I don't want you trying to bring anything blessed, cursed, or otherwise haunted into the house."

"Oh don't worry Uncle Coran, I won't!"

Coran gave her a sidelong look then grumbled, "Come along Nanny, let's give the girls a little space."

When they had left, Romelle took Allura's arm and pulled her along toward the alley. "Talk."

"About what?"

"What's the deal with the vampire? Did you… let him bite you?"

"What?! Of course not! And he's not a vampire, he's just a-- oh! I beg your--"

Allura had run smack into someone and when she looked up, she immediately regretted having come with Romelle. 

"I beg your pardon," she finished, her cheeks turning bright red.

"Why my dear Miss Allura, the fault is mine. Are you quite all right?" Lotor asked pleasantly.

"Welp. Seems there's something you two need to work out. Talk to you later, cousin!" Romelle scurried off and hid behind a stall, occasionally peeking out at them.

"Shall I tell your cousin she'll be better able to eavesdrop if she moves closer?"

"No, you'll spoil her fun if she thinks you let her hear the conversation." Allura rolled her eyes.

Lotor laughed and, in spite of herself, Allura smiled.

"Miss Allura, I apologize for startling you several evenings ago. I should have made my intentions clear from the start."

"Indeed."

"My dear, please understand that non-monogamy is not unusual in my culture and most girls who come to visit New Orleans  _ are  _ looking for a certain brand of excitement. I meant no insult to you and would have thought no less of your character had you been interested in what I was offering. I deeply apologize for having offended your upbringing and moral sensibilities and beg your forgiveness for my error."

"I… I accept your apology."

"I find you… exceptionally enchanting, my dear. I think it's safe to say at this point my courting you is off the table, but I should enjoy, should you so desire, having your friendship."

Allura considered him for a long moment, biting her lip. "Is monogamy equally common in your culture?"

"Why, yes. Alteans are respectful of many unions and living situations."

Allura felt her heart thump heavily in her chest. "Are  _ you _ capable of being faithful?"

He considered her for a long moment. "Yes.”

Allura swallowed and summoned her courage. Hell's bells, what would Nanny and Coran think? "I shall allow you to court me, Prince Lotor. But I wish for you to court me exclusively. Ditch the harem."

"The harem?"

"Yes. The  _ harem _ ."

"You mean Luca and Coral?"

"Yes. And any others I may not have already met."

He laughed. "They’re the only two for now. They're my friends and we sometimes enjoy each other's amorous company. They're not my ‘harem’. They're free to enjoy other company besides mine."

Allura lifted a brow. "Well, if you want to enjoy my company, then you won't be enjoying theirs."

He laughed again. "I admire your decisive spirit, my dear. I'll put them on notice."

"Good," Allura said.

"So when may I enjoy your company next?"

Allura looked him over, her stomach fluttering. "Tomorrow evening?"

"Tomorrow evening would be splendid. Is it all right if I pick you up myself? I don't want your reputation questioned, but the usual chaperone…"

"Yes, please pick me up yourself," Allura skirted discussion of Luca.

"9:30pm again?"

"Yes, that would be fine."

He grasped her hand and gave her a chaste kiss on the top. "I'll look forward to our time. You had better run along and break your cousin's suspense."

"Yes, I suppose--" Allura stopped cold.

The stench of death and rot hit them both like a sack of bricks. Lotor glanced over his shoulder where Allura stared, toward the darkened alley. A slumped figure heaved itself toward them, grunting with every lurch.

"Stay here," Lotor told her and strode toward the creature.

"Lotor, wait!" Allura called. 

The creature wasted no time. It tried to bolt around him, its dead eyed sights set on Allura, rotting mouth hanging ajar by a single piece of flesh. Lotor drew two long daggers from inside his waistcoat and kicked it hard in the chest, causing it to stumble backward. It hefted ifself up and ran toward the prince. Lotor ran toward the creature, a warcry bursting from his chest, and sliced one dagger through its middle, the other through its neck. The midriff slumped to the ground, viscera pouring out, and a rotting head, tongue lolled out, rolled down the alley. Lotor stopped the head with his shoe.

Romelle stumbled out from behind a stall and vomited.

"What was that thing?!" Allura asked.

"Zombie," Lotor said, and glanced down the alley. A hooded figure lurked in the shadows, watching them. Suddenly, it took off. "Go back to your hotel room, lock all your doors and windows, and stay with your family. I'll come by later tonight and check in on you, but for now I have some business to attend."

"How did you--?!"

"I'll explain everything later. I promise." He kissed her forehead. "Stay safe, Miss Allura."

He disappeared into the alley's shadows.

 

It was 3am before Lotor showed up on Allura's balcony. Romelle had sworn the girls had survived a zombie attack, Coran had accused her of being drunk, and Nanny had sent everyone to bed in exasperation. The tiniest of knocks woke the sleeping girl, who quickly unlatched the door.

"Lotor, are you all right?"

He swallowed as he looked her over. She was wearing a sheer pink negligee that barely hid her curves.

"Yes, I'm fine, my dear. Are you?

"Oh Lotor!" She brushed a hand over his face. "This must be from that horrid zombie. Let's get you cleaned up."

She pulled him toward her room but felt as though she were trying to pull him through a brick wall.

He cleared his throat. "I can't come inside a lady's space unless I've been expressly invited. Altean… custom."

"Don’t be ridiculous, of course you're invited. Please come in."

He followed her inside and let her gather a washcloth to clean him up.

"I could have sworn that thing was long rotten but it's got fresh blood all over your face. Here." She gently scrubbed the blood away, gazing into his still-wild, albeit tired, eyes.

"Thank you for saving my life today," she told him softly.

"Ma cher," he cupped her cheek. "It was my very genuine pleasure."

She cupped his cheek in return and tipped her chin up toward him, placing a chaste kiss on his full lips. What she could not have known was that the blood she had just tenderly wiped from her hero's face had not come from the zombie. 

 

_ Earlier that night… _

 

Shrieks and blood curdling screams filled the factory warehouse. The brick and steel building was on the outskirts of the now sleeping city, far away from any neighborhoods where anyone would have heard the man's cries.

Prince Lotor leaned against a doorway and took a long, slow drag on a cigarette.

A chubby man in a black suit and hat approached him. "Lotor, if your broads make a mess of my business, I swear--"

"You'll what, Spats? Get the police involved?"

"Listen, I'm trying to run a nice, clean, underground operation here. We play by your gang's persnickety little rules on what sort of merchandise is for sale. Booze and full grown, willing broads only."

"And are you not satisfied with the benefits that come with playing by our rules?"

"Oh sure, we're all glad we haven't wound up like any of the poor bastards who've crossed you."

Another blood curdling scream filled the air.

"I've had to cancel tonight's pickups because of this shit!"

Lotor dropped the cigarette butt and put it out with his shoe. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. "If your customers can't wait until morning for their product, perhaps you need to get a higher class of clientele. It sounds like the girls are nearly done, so we'll be out of your hair soon enough, Spats."

The prince strode down to the warehouse basement, daggers in hand.

"Zethrid, doll, is the nice man ready to talk yet?"

"I dunno, he could probably use a little more warming up," said a muscular, indigo Altean.

"I'm not telling you shit, dickhead!"

Lotor gave a little wave of his fingers and Zethrid got out a pair of pliers.

"Wait, no no! Hold on, friend! I'll talk!"

Lotor motioned for her to put the tool away.

"Aw damn, boss. We were about to have some real fun," said Ezor as she ran a comb through her long, pink hair.

"Who were you targeting with the zombie?"

"It was you. There was a hit put out on you by a pissed off mob boss--"

"He's lying," said Lotor.

Zethrid grabbed him by the hair and yanked out a bottom tooth.

A high pitched shriek filled the air.

"All right,  _ friend _ . Now let's try again. Who was your target?"

"I don't know her name. Some half breed girl you're trying to get your dick wet with."

"Zethrid… Just the tip."

She snapped the end of his pinky finger.

The man screamed.

"Please use manners when speaking about my friends," Lotor said. "Now. Care to run that by me again?"

"The girl you were with. Pretty one with blue eyes and black hair."

Lotor turned his attention to the quiet, azure skinned and haired woman on his left. "Always insist they have manners, Acxa dear. It reminds them who's in charge."

The prince addressed the prisoner again. "And what, pray tell, would possess you to target such a lovely and well reputed young woman?"

"Look pal, I just do what the wizard tells me to."

"I see. So you're a tool."

"Sure, whatever."

"So whose tool are you then,  _ friend _ ?"

"I told you, the wizard's--"

"If you value your life you will stop playing stupid this instant and start cooperating."

"Look pal, I don't know his name. None of us knows anyone's names. We just show up to the meetings, put on our robes, and do what we're told."

"What would compel a man to join an organization that tells him to kill innocent young women minding their own business?"

"Honor," the man spat. "Pride in my pure blood heritage. More than I can say for you vampire freaks!"

"Zethrid. He's annoying me again."

Zethrid snapped the end of his ring finger.

The man bit down onto his own arm, trying not to scream again.

"Last chance. I want to know who you're working for and why he wants to murder my friend."

The man shook his head and laughed bitterly. "By the time you figure it out, it'll be too late. He's the most powerful wizard in the States. He's gonna turn you to dust and then he's gonna make your little whore scream--"

"I believe we've heard enough vulgar talk for one evening. Ladies first." Lotor snapped his fingers.

The generals bared their fangs in a hiss and flew on him, devouring him in merciless slurps. When Lotor was tired of hearing his screams and pleas, he extended his own fangs and finished him off at the jugular.

After the vampires had finished, they exited the warehouse, passing Spats.

Lotor tossed him a half dollar coin. "Sorry about the mess."


	4. The Power Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allura and Lotor grow closer when they discover the power she has within.

Right on schedule, Allura heard a light tapping at her balcony door. Her date was waiting, a single pink rose in hand. She invited him in while she put the flower into a vase, then took his arm and let him escort her through the hallway and out the back door to the car. He opened hers, helping her inside, and drove them to his residence.

“I thought since you enjoyed it so well last time we’d try dancing again, but this time without the booze.”

“Suits me,” she said.

And so they did, the girl falling easily into his arms. It wasn’t long before they were cuddled up on the divan, the cat nuzzled up on Allura’s lap with Lotor stroking between his ears. Though clearly enjoying himself, he was making a strained, scratchy purring noise.

“Is he ill?” Allura asked.

“Oh no, my dear. A while back I think he must have got into some hot grease a neighbor had poured out and learned a lesson about eating strange food the hard way.”

“The poor cat!”

Lotor scritched him affectionately. “Yes well, he’s a tough old fellow and a loyal friend. Aren’t you, Kova?”

Allura let the animal sniff her hand then pet lovingly between his ears and scratched under his chin, beaming when he nuzzled into her. He soon wandered from Lotor’s lap to Allura’s and nuzzled up to her cheek, rubbing his mouth against hers.

“My, he’s a lovey little guy!” She laughed.

“And here I was going on about how loyal he is.” Lotor smiled. “Seems he’s traded allegiances. He just marked you as his.”

“Is that what that was?”

“Yes, he’s very territorial. Cats have scent glands they use to mark two-legs who belong to them.”

“How fascinating,” Allura said. She pulled the cat to her, cuddling him to her chest, then made long, slow strokes down his neck as she listened to his strained purr. “The poor, sweet dear…”

Suddenly, the straining, scratchy sound was replaced with a gentle, resonant purr that soon silenced as Kova looked up at her in surprise. He meowed curiously. Then he headbutted her playfully, rubbing up against her chest and nuzzling into her face, a healthy and pure purr returning once more.

Allura looked at Lotor, whose eyes were wide with excitement, in surprise. “How--?”

“Miss Allura, my dear, I think you may possess a very particular gift with magic.”

“Magic? Me?!”

“Why yes. You just healed Kova.”

“But how?”

“Through your compassion. Light magic wielders are particularly empathic and are often natural healers. You felt love for him and wanted him to be whole, and the sheer force of your love willed it to be so. We ancient Alteans hold magic wielders as sacred, and there are very few left in the world. It’s a beautiful power you have within, Miss Allura.” Lotor took her hand in his and looked into her eyes.

Kova gingerly left the divan as Lotor pulled Allura in close and stroked a hand against her cheek. She felt a churning in the pit of her belly. And a warmth between her legs. Her small, brown hands found his lapels, clinging for dear life as she tipped her chin to expose her dainty neck. She could have sworn she saw the faintest change in his eyes -- something feral that had awakened at the sight of her pulsing throat. But whatever it was passed like a shadow as his soft lips found hers.

It wasn’t long before she slid down onto her back and pulled him atop her by the lapels. His long fingers found the small of her waist and the crook of her neck to rub slow, gentle circles while he deftly slid his tongue along hers, sucking her lower lip between his own to give her a teasing bite. He slid a knee between her thighs, and soon the night air was lit up with the melody of her coos and sighs. 

After a while he shifted to his side and pulled her close into his chest. She rested against his arm, her cheeks flushed and warm. The prince stroked two fingers along her jawline to her chin. “May I take you to bed, princess?”

Allura’s eyes widened and she bit her lip. “I’ve never-- I don’t think I’m ready--”

He smiled warmly. “We don’t have to go any further than this. I’d just like to stretch out and get comfortable while we kiss, if it would be all right with you.”

She carefully considered, then “All right, but just kissing tonight.”

“I’ll be a good boy. Scouts’ honor.” 

She giggled and nuzzled into his collarbone.

He stood and picked her up, cradling her against him and relishing the feeling of her arms wrapped around his neck as he carried her to his bed. It wasn’t long before they had found their rhythm again. But this time the panting girl wrapped her legs around his waist and ground into the bulge that was now straining against his pants.

Lotor bit his lower lip and swallowed, his heart racing, and moved his hands from around her waist to grasp a pillow above them.

“You don’t want to touch me?” she pouted.

He slowed his breathing and whispered against her cheek, “I would very much like to touch you. But you said you only wanted to kiss tonight, and I’m trying to be a good boy for you, ma cher. Would you like me to touch?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

He ran his hands along her waist, down to her hips to grasp her full bottom, eliciting a gasp from her, and grinned. “Is this all right?”

She smiled coyly and let her own palms wander to his backside, pulling him back against her as she squeezed playfully. “We’ll see.”

He let one hand wander beneath her dress to the backside of her thigh and lifted her knee so he had better access to grind exquisitely against her. Soon she was little more than a mewling, panting puddle writhing beneath him, her ankle hooked around his lower back and her brown fingers twisting into his snow white hair. Suddenly her cheeks flushed red hot and she let out a startled cry of ecstasy as her entire body trembled.

Allura’s eyes opened wide, meeting a fiendishly self-satisfied smirk. She covered her mouth and her cheeks flushed hot. “I didn’t mean for that to happen!”

He was grinning like a cat that had caught a mouse and leaned smugly onto his elbow, his hand draped casually across her hip. “Why not? That’s what’s  _ supposed _ to happen, my sweet.”

“It is?”

“How charming you are. Do you suppose we can make it happen a second time?”

“Perhaps…”

 

When he was satisfied with the trembling mess that lay beneath him, he swept an ebony curl away from her blue eyes and kissed her moist temple, pulling her into his still clothed chest. “So. Have I sufficiently tempted you into allowing  me to call on you tomorrow?”

She placed pecks against his jawline and nuzzled into his neck. “Aw. Does this mean you’re sending me home now?”

He kissed her forehead in return. “If I don’t return you safely to your hotel that old bulldog of yours will have my hide. However. I was hoping, considering our little discovery this evening, you would consent to visiting the Altean queen with me.”

Allura’s cheeks flushed. “This isn’t a Luca and Coral thing, is it?”

Lotor laughed aloud. “While I am certain Merla would find you as enchanting as I do, I meant our discovery of your magical ability. She’s a deft teacher and can point you to the right resources for honing your gift.”

“Oh…” Allura responded. 

“I know this is all very… sudden. But I have no doubt she’ll be as enthused as I to meet you and would make an excellent guide as you develop your talent.”

“I… I think I need some time to think about it. This -- all of this -- is so sudden. Until tonight I was just an ordinary girl. Then suddenly an Altean prince is pulling me into his world and telling me I have abilities I didn’t even know existed. It’s… a lot to process.”

He smiled through closed teeth and, sighing, kissed her cheek. “I can certainly understand the feeling.”

 

The rest of the night was spent cuddling -- each other and Kova -- and getting to know each other. When the time came, he chauffeured her back to the hotel, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning in to tenderly, passionately kiss her goodnight.

When he got back to his apartment, Lotor did his nightly clean-up, smoked a cigarette, and fed Kova. Then he rang Merla.

“Yes, of course it’s me. I have splendid news.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m back in the game.”


	5. Queen Bee

“But it feels so unladylike!” Allura laughed.

“I disagree,” Lotor purred into her ear. “You’ve never looked more fetching than you do with my hilt in your hand.”

She cut her eyes over her shoulder. “Don’t get fresh with me, Prince Perv.”

“Touche.” He smirked and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her close while slipping his long fingers around her knife hand. “Now. Distracted as I know I make you, do try to concentrate, my dear.”

She rolled her eyes at his smug self-assuredness but leaned into him nonetheless.

Lotor guided her arm back in a draw, purring instructions into her ear. “Draw back quickly, then shoot out like an arrow and draw back in again.”

She did as he instructed.

“Keep your elbow slightly loose or you’ll strain yourself. Yes, just like that.”

“I still don’t see how this is at all necessary.”

“My darling, the dead have risen from the graves of New Orleans. That means I must rise to the occasion of teaching you the self-defense your family -- forgive me -- neglected to.”

“Have you no shame insulting a Southerner’s family? I’ll have you know that sort of comment means war where I’m from.” She lunged at him, and he grasped a second sword and blocked.

“Good! You can put that spiteful Southern energy into learning the deadly arts.”

She laughed. “You’ve only known me for a few weeks now. Why should you care I’m taught to fight?”

He lunged himself, trapping her against a wall. “My dear Miss Allura, please allow me to assure you with all the honor of my cold black heart I am only teaching you out of pure selfishness. Should a zombie eat you and I had not taught you the art of swordsmanship I would feel -- dare I say -- guilty. And I find guilt a most unpleasant emotion.”

“How romantic,” she simpered up at him.

He disarmed the girl and leaned into her, his knee finding the sweet spot between her legs. “I am the epitome of romance. I always kiss you on the mouth first.”

“Shut up and kiss me then,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on his.

He tossed their swords to the ground and clasped her wrists above her head, leaning in for the steal. “Only if you ask me to kiss you nicely, ma cher.”

“Kiss me nicely,” she teased.

His heart raced as he bared a fanged grin. “Never.”

"So. That's the girl?"

"Allura."

"She seems… nice. A little naive. But nice."

"That young woman is going to be the final death of me, Acxa."

It had taken a few more dates, but the debutante had finally consented to visiting the Altean queen with him. Once the introduction had been made, Lotor left the women alone to discuss Allura’s gift and sought out his second in command.

“You really think it’s her, boss?”

“I’m sure of it. What’s the news on the town?”

“More zombies popping up sporadically but nothing the girls and I can’t handle. No straight pins on the necromancer yet, but we’ve also noticed an increase in Klan activity.”

“Great.” Lotor rolled his eyes. “So now those ghouls are meddling in dark magic.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Then we’ll have to suss them out.”

“Lotor, with all due respect--”

“Don’t ‘with all due respect’ me, Acxa. We’re better friends than that.”

“You’re getting in too deep over this girl. We’ve had a good life here, a safe life. Suddenly she shows up and so does death itself.”

“This is not her fault, Acxa.”

“It’s not her fault, but you know as well as I do if the curse is following her then the sooner she goes back to podunk Alabama or wherever the hell she’s from, the sooner we’re safe again.”

“South Carolina. She’s from Charleston.”

Acxa pointed a finger at him. “See! This is what I’m worried about. You’re getting too attached. It’s clouding your judgement.”

“Acxa, she is the prophesied one. I’m certain of it. She will restore our people back to our true form. We must protect her.”

Acxa threw her hands in the air. “I’m loyal to you, Prince Lotor. And I’ll follow your command until the end. But I dearly hope you’re right.”

“My dear Acxa, I’ve never been wrong before.”

 

"Rather a puzzle, isn't he?"

The azure skinned, fiery haired queen’s question caught Allura by surprise as she stared at her black, white, and gold surroundings. A mix of what looked to be ancient Altean carvings and paintings and Art Nouveau, the palace was a sight to behold, complete with an indoor swimming pool. As well off as her own family was, Allura had never seen such luxury.

"Madame?"

"The prince."

"He has a… peculiar code of honor, my lady."

She smiled. "Yes, on one hand he's single-handedly ended more lives than everyone else in the Altean community combined. On the other, society is decidedly better off without them so it really is more of a public service."

"He has an awfully promiscuous history for a man who behaves like such a gentleman in public."

Merla laughed heartily. "So the sex bothers you more than the vigilantism? You really are a true Southern belle. I think if you bothered to inquire you'd find there's a reason he's such a catch."

Allura’s cheeks pinked. "Is it because… he’s a good lover?"

Queen Merla raised a brow. "I should hope so. I trained him in the arts of chivalry and lovemaking myself."

Allura's cheeks reddened. "I didn't know--"

"That the vampire queen personally sees to it her favorites are made into good lovers and Alteans of honor? Of course. I'd be a terrible queen indeed if I didn't."

"No, that… you and Lotor… wait--  _ vampire queen _ ?!"

Merla laughed. “Well what did you think the fangs were for?”

Allura suddenly felt very small. “He didn’t tell me…” 

“Left that part out, did he? Listen Miss Allura, we vampires are secretive for a reason. If everyone in the world knew who and what we were, we’d have gone extinct a lot faster than we have. People have a prejudice against what they don’t understand, as I’m sure you already know.”

Allura sighed and nodded. She did indeed. Still, she had been an open book with him so Lotor’s secrecy hurt. She couldn’t help but wonder what else the prince had carefully omitted from what he had apparently so carefully chosen to share with her. “What does it mean? To be a vampire?”

“Some things you’ve likely already heard. But not all the hearsay is true. We weren’t always like this, but there came a point in Altean history when we went to the Nightmother for help to survive, and she heard our cries. Now we sustain ourselves on blood. But we take only as much as we need and we take no innocent life.”

“I see.” Allura’s thoughts raced from topic to topic. She had many questions, some more pressing than others.

Merla chuckled. “You really are a sweet girl. No wonder he’s so attached.”

Allura frowned defiantly, putting her hands on her hips. “And why is that?”

“I’m the vampire queen, my dear. Mind reading comes with the territory. You’ve just learned you’re standing in the middle of a vampire den and all you can think about is exactly how intimate the prince and I were. Well go on then. Ask what you really want to ask.” Merla put her chin in her hand in amusement.

Allura’s cheeks flushed. “How long were you two… lovers?”

"Lovers?" She laughed again. "We were married for a short time, before our people turned to the Nightmother for help."

Allura gasped.

Merla chuckled, a similar chuckle to the one Lotor always gave her. "You're fun. Is it that difficult to believe that in ten thousand years your new boyfriend hadn't had a wife or two?"

"Two?!"

"Queen Merla, what dark secrets are you subjecting this poor girl to?" Lotor suddenly interrupted them.

"Ah, the good prince returns. None that aren't public knowledge. For now."

He gave her a look. "Let's please keep it that way."

Merla smiled at him. “If Miss Allura consents I’ll start teaching her to hone her magic tomorrow evening.”

“I knew she’d perform well,” Lotor said proudly, his arm around the girl.

“I didn’t perform at all!” said Allura.

“I didn’t need a performance. I could feel your magic practically bouncing off the walls as soon as you arrived. It’s your personality I wanted to see. And great news -- I like you. Isn’t that swell?”

Allura wrinkled her nose. “Peachy.”

 

Allura was silent and sullen on the ride home.

"Have I done something to upset you, ma cher?"

"For future reference, I would appreciate knowing ahead of time when I will be meeting an ex-wife of yours."

"Merla?"

"Yes. Merla."

"My sincerest apologies, my sweet. I did not realize a marriage that was annulled nearly ten thousand years ago would invoke such ire."

"Annulled?"

He laughed. "Yes. Queen Merla and I are dear friends now but long ago my father demanded I marry her to unite our two kingdoms against humans. I… well, I wasn't particularly interested in marriage at that point and after a single night together we decided it was best to call it off."

"And that was that?"

"Yes."

"You're lying."

He gave her an irritated look. "Do please enlighten me how so."

"Merla said she taught you everything you know about lovemaking. You expect me to believe that happened in one night, after which you broke up?"

The prince actually laughed aloud. "Merla has an interesting way of weaving tales and quite the inflated opinion of her own influence. Yes, we were lovers for a period sometime after our short lived marriage. Yes, she gave me some very useful advice about women and life in general. But I daresay the brand of lovemaking she so enjoys taking credit for was already well established before she took me under her wing, in a manner of speaking."

"With your  _ other _ wives?" Allura snarked.

His tolerant amusement turned swiftly to ire. He glowered at her. " _ That _ , ma cherie, is none of your business."

He stopped the car outside her hotel and the pair stared at each other for several long moments.

The prince stood and opened the door, stepping out and offering his hand. Allura took it and stepped hurriedly out. Before she could quite pull away he took her hand in both of his and placed a chaste kiss on the top, meeting her eyes.

"I'm sorry I was brusque with you, my dear. It's a… very personal subject. Dream sweetly, Allura."

Allura nodded and continued her fast walk to the hotel. When she reached the front door she looked over shoulder to see him still staring worriedly after her.


End file.
